


Flight into the Black

by TheGreatBobbinski



Category: Serenity (2005), Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatBobbinski/pseuds/TheGreatBobbinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of their mother to a demon, and their father's suicide, Dean and Sam Winchester set off on a journey across the universe in search of the thing that took their mother from them. They travel from planet to planet, hunting the things that go bump in the night. Along the way, they pick up a mix-matched crew, consisting of a pilot with a shady background, an ace engineer, and a former pirate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight into the Black

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first chapter of how many, I don't know. And if this makes you think of _Serenity_ then you are one hundred percent right. Hope you enjoy!

 

Take my love, take my land

Take me where I cannot stand

I don't care, I'm still free

You can't take the sky from me.

- _Ballad of Serenity_

 

The icy world was a dapple of dark and blue light from the single star in its system--too far to be really warming, yet too close to make the planet lifeless. There were petrified forests from ages before when the world used to be a friendlier place, and dark predators still scratched a life beneath the twisted, dead branches. It was a bleak reminder of how armed with fangs the universe was, when creatures that slept beneath the ice for years emerged to hunt other violent things.

Yet people still attempted to stake a claim to their own plot of land. Perhaps it was a testament to the human spirit, or its desperation. When hundreds of years before settlers landed with only blankets and simple tools at their disposal to try and tame the wild, it was because they had nowhere else to go. That and the ships had been flown by the corrupt. The captains took what little money they had to offer and marooned them on the frozen world. It was expected that the settlers would die out, killed by the elements or predators, and left without a second thought. But those settlers had clung to life, clawing out their own little corner, using fire and pure determination.

The petrified trees provided good building materials and they built their keeps to keep the wild at bay. The bloodsuckers and flesh eaters made just as good eating for the humans, and once they figured out how to hunt the hunters, they survived. If clinging to life on the edge of a forgotten system could be called survival.

There were so many planets like these, hundreds of floating rocks that somehow held life, orbiting their stars, just out of the reach of the Universal Coalition. Unable to get the assistance they needed from the official channels, which was where the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean, plus a few of their ragtag band, came in. Always ready to help with the monsters, either animal or human, always willing to bring what little hope could be mustered to those who asked.

That was why they had landed on this particular planet--the people here called it ‘Moonless’ but its official title was Aries X956, named after the red giant that would be dead in the next million years or so.  The oldest brother, Dean Winchester, stood on the crest of a white field, the distant edges ragged with the petrified forest. His breath plumed around his head, the mask only warming the air enough to stop his lungs from freezing. But the cold still bit at his nose, making it difficult to breathe as he looked over this dead world. It was all stone and ice, but there had been a call, so they had answered.

“You in position, Dean?”

His brother's voice crackled through his headset. Damn cold was screwing with the wiring in the system.

“In position and freezin' my balls off, thanks for checking,” he said. “All's quiet out here in ice land. No sign of monsters. What about Benny? He spot anything?”

“That’s a negative, brother,” came the deep sound of their gunman over the speaker. “Ain’t nothin’ with half a brain’s going to wanna move out in cold like this.”

“Yeah, well, both of you keep an eye out anyway,” Sam’s voice snipped, and Dean snorted, picturing the bitch face his brother must be making. “According to the people here, these things love nights like this.”

“Oh yeah, crisp evening, perfect thing for a stroll…” Dean trailed off when he spotted something moving just against the edge of the forest. At first he thought it was just a trick of the eerie light from the night sky, but then he saw there was something black, blacker than the forest itself, shifting. It detached itself edge and slid out onto the snow. Slid was the only word for it. It didn’t have a gait that he could make out--hell, it didn’t even look like it had legs. It was just a ribbon of black ink that trailed over the landscape, pausing momentarily now and then as though it was sniffing the air.

“Ugly located, my two o’clock,” Dean murmured low into the speaker and he heard Benny’s confirming grunt.

When it moved, it really moved. It was fast, skating over the surface of the ice without hesitation, honing in on Dean’s location with unnerving ease. A shot cracked through the frigid air, but it missed. The vampire didn’t even slow, continuing its deadly course with purpose. The thing was within yards of him and Dean had his hand on the handle of his machete, muscles tensing to prepare for a last ditch effort at cutting it down himself, when the second shot rang out. This time the bullet flew true, and the vampire dropped in its tracks without a sound. Dean stood for long moments, trying to breathe steadily, hand gripping his machete handle tightly.

“You gotta check if it's dead, Dean,” Sam's voice came over the com.

“Yeah, got that, genius, just givin' it a moment to pull itself together if it ain't,” Dean muttered back at him, but he was spurred into action anyway, moving towards the downed monster with slow steps. As he drew close, he couldn't tell where the head was. The thing looked like a black sheet draped over some lumps, and only a glint of light off one protruding claw gave anything away about its true nature.

“Hey, how the hell'm I s'posed to chop off its damn head if it ain't got one?”

“Turn it over, brotha, pull its skin back. Should be a head in there somewhere.”

With a noise of disgust, Dean toed the creature until it was flipped on its back. It sure as hell seemed dead. But the bottom side of it was just as formless as the other, and he realized Benny was right--he actually had to touch the damn thing. Bracing himself for any sudden movements, the hunter leaned down and poked at the loose skin until it seemed to give in one spot. With a careful tug, he pulled it back until its body was revealed.

“Aw, man, this thing's nasty,” he moaned.

Like a bag of bones covered in a thin film of some kind of mucus or slimy gray skin. The sight of it made his own skin crawl. But there, at where he had guessed the head was, was a skull with rows of vicious teeth. Damn thing didn't even have eyes, but it did have a nose, and he figured that must be how it was able to track and zone in on its prey so easily.

The vampire was definitely dead. Dean pulled his machete free from its sheath and quickly brought it down on its neck, severing tendons and bone in one clean swipe. Wiping the blade off, he slid it home just as fast. The metal could easily frost and snap in this cold.

“Marie Antoinette here's done,” he announced.

“Bring the body with you. It'll be easier to skin it in shelter.”

“Yeah, you're gonna get that fun job, Sammy.” There was an answering snort as Dean hauled the entire thing over his shoulder. The appearance of being a bag of bones was not just that--it weighed practically nothing, and Dean thanked what small gods there were for the little blessings of this miserable job.

He started trudging across the snow towards Benny and Sam when he heard another noise rise from the forest. It climbed from a moan to a shriek that sent already goose bumped skin prickling and made Dean freeze in his tracks.

“Uh, guys? Thought there was s'posed to be only one of these here...”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“You better, uh, run. Now.”

He didn't need to be told twice. He plunged forward through the snow, legs moving as fast as he could force them, trying not to stumble over the awkward snowshoes strapped to his feet. He could hear the thing in the dead forest and it didn't sound far away, and right now it was him alone with the body of another one draped over his shoulder and he wasn't going to make it. Dean stopped, dropping the carcass and turning to make his stand, muscles tensed and ready, hand on the hilt of the machete. Chances were, he wouldn't have the time to pull the thing free and kill the vamp, now he had seen for himself the speed those things could get up to, but he wasn't about to die with his thumb up his ass waiting.

The respirator was fogging up his vision with panting breath, but he knew better than to take it off. So he did his best to look through the clouded visor, eyes taking in the blue white landscape. There it was, another shadow breaking off from the darkness of the forest, and Dean didn't let it try to hone in on him like the first one. He gave it his location right away.

“I'm right here, you son of a bitch!” he yelled out over its screech and it immediately swerved, slicking over the ice like an oil spill, unnervingly straight at him. He crouched, ready to fight, ignoring Sam and Benny cursing at him through the com, telling him to get the hell out of there. There was a crack in the air and he knew Sam was trying to take it down with a long range shot, but it was still moving without hesitation at him.

Dean had the moment to take a breath and brace himself before it launched itself at him, still shrieking. He could see the glint of fangs and claws from beneath the black skin before it slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. His machete swung, sinking into its side, but that hardly seemed to slow it. The jaws clicked within inches of his face as his free arm braced between his body and the vampire, holding it just barely off from clamping onto his jugular. The shriek had stopped and the air around them eerily quiet besides their harsh breathing. He barely registered another crack of sound, he was so focused on the thing wanting to tear his throat out, when it suddenly collapsed on top of him in a heap of bone and skin, all movement still.

Dean groaned, flopping back on the snow. He heard the crunching of snow nearby and saw the bulky shape of Benny Lafitte walking towards him.

“Thanks, Benny,” he muttered.

“Don't mention it, brotha,” the other man's voice crackled through his headset as he leaned over and hauled the corpse of the vampire off Dean.

“Please tell me that's all there is, Sam.”

“Scanners aren't picking up on anything else,” his brother's voice sounded suspiciously relieved and shaky and Dean smirked. It's good to be able to still keep him on his toes.

“Good. Then let's get the hell outta here and back to the ship.”

“Hey, Dean,” Gabriel's voice called out over the loudspeaker, and the seriousness of it catches his attention more than anything else. “Better get yourself up to the bridge and see this.”

Dean took stairs two at a time, skirting around a worried looking Jo and up onto the ship's bridge where Gabriel sat at the controls, staring at a screen on his dash.

“What've we got?”

“A junker ship. Flying manually,” the pilot said. “Looks like it's comin’ in hot.”

Dean's heart sank as he looked over Gabriel's shoulder at the screen. It was an old ship, one that had clearly seen better days and only a maniac would attempt to fly. It would be in view of their windows at any moment and he gave the pilot terse instructions.

“Go black. Turn everythin' off that don't need to be on.” He grabbed the microphone and called to Jo. “Jo, get to the engine room, shut her down. We've got Croats.”

He didn't have to be there to know that his engineer was practically flying to where their core kept his Baby going. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone again as Gabriel started shutting the ship down.

“Look, folks, best brace yourselves for some zero grav for a few minutes. We've got a shipload of Croatoan on our radar and they're comin' up quick. I don't need to tell you what'll happen if they spot us. We're going dark and let's just hope they think we're a piece of space junk and pass on by. Turn off all electronics you've got runnin', I don't want anything pinging their radar that we're here. Captain out.”

He clicked off the speaker as Sam burst onto the bridge behind him.

“Jo's got the engine,” he said, just as the purring sound they lived with constantly cut off, leaving them in the deathly silence of space.

“Alright, people, time to hold onto something,” Gabriel muttered, reaching out and flicking the final switch that plunged them into darkness. The only thing left was the hiss of their oxygen, even the gravity gone as Dean and Sam's feet lifted from the floor. The pilot grabbed his husband's hand and hauled him closer as the three men stared out of the window, waiting for the ship to come in sight.

They were silent as the void around them, Gabriel and Sam gripping each other as Dean held onto the co-pilot's seat hard enough to turn his knuckles white. This was the last thing they needed. With a ship of passengers that were his responsibility, and then there was Sam and Jo...he couldn't let them be taken by a bunch of cannibals.

The ship showed no sign of slowing, but that didn't mean a damn thing with Croats. They could turn and attack without slowing their pace--in fact, Dean wouldn't be surprised if they decided to just ram right into his ship.

It slid by in the darkness, all eyes of _Impala_ glued to it, silence thick with prayers and curses. Benny had his knives out, sharpened and at the ready. Jo curled in the engine room, tucked up against the core itself, shotgun cradled in her arms, while Castiel hovered over the sleeping Anna, carefully strapped to the bed in the infirmary.

Moments ticked by like small pieces of eternity. No one let out a sigh of relief until it was very clear that the ship was well on its way and out of their orbit. Then Dean gave Gabriel the signal to rev things back up again, and that was when they all finally allowed themselves to believe they were going to be okay.

“That was a close one,” Sam commented once his feet hit the floor again.

“Too damn close. What the hell're Croats doing in the middle of a system?”

“Guess the pickings got too slim out on the edge,” Gabriel offered, pushing himself out of his chair once the ship was purring again, lights on and back on course. He turned to look up at Sam, eyes dark, and his husband looked at him for a moment before wrapping his arms around him and holding him close.

Dean could have made a noise of irritation, teased them, but he chose not to. Not in this moment. He felt a vague sense of wanting someone he could cling to as well, especially after a brush like that. Instead, he turned away to let them have their time and left the bridge, intent on checking his crew, make sure they were still holding together.

“Alright, let’s get the hell outta here, before those bastards decide they wanna take a closer look at us,” Dean said.

Gabriel snapped a smart salute, and he was setting the ship into flight, making tracks for their next stop.

“Alright, let’s get the hell outta here, before those bastards decide they wanna take a closer look at us,” Dean said.

Gabriel snapped a smart salute, and he was setting the ship into flight, making tracks for their next stop.

Dean hauled the two vampires into the hold, intent on skinning them. Touching them made him grimace, but he grit his teeth and set about the grisly task. Soon it was skinned, and it sure as hell didn't look like much.

Just a bag of bones, really. And they were supposed to drop the damn thing off at the small village they were hunting them down for, although Dean was pretty sure that village was gone, since the Croats were heading right in its direction.

He went back up to the bridge, calling out to Gabriel.

"Don't think we should head back to that village."

"I was just about to suggest the same thing. Poor bastards," Gabriel said, looking genuinely sad about it.

"Well, let's just head on out to Persephone, then," Dean says, and that seemed to make Gabriel brighten.

"Picking up passengers, Cap'n?"

"Damn straight we are. Hafta afford keepin' this clunker floatin', after all."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Gabriel said, setting in the new coordinates.

Two days later, they were docking in Persephone.

"Hey, Jo, you mind lookin' for some passengers while we sell these bags of bones?" Dean asked.

The ship's engineer grinned broadly.

"Not at all, Cap'n," she said, with a smart salute.

Dean grinned at her as he walked out of the ship, and she followed, setting up a little folding chair with her parasol outside to keep an eye out for possible passengers. She wasn’t long in waiting, because soon a man dressed as a Shepherd walked up looking at the ship.

Jo grinned up at him. “You’re comin’ with us,” she said confidently.

“And what makes you say that?” he asked, looking surprised.

“‘Cause you’re lookin’ at the ships, not the destination,” she stated confidently, “And mine’s the nicest.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that,” he said.

“You have money to pay?”

“A little, and I also brought this,” he said, holding out a medium sized wooden box.

She took it and opened it, then looked up at him in surprise.

“Wow, Grandpa…”

“I was never married.”

By the time Dean and Sam made it back, there was a second passenger, a man with dark hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb before, with sharp blue eyes, watching Benny and Gabriel pushing a large storage box into the hold.

 “Be careful with that,” the man said warningly, “It’s very valuable to me.”

 The third passenger was a mousy looking man who introduced himself as ‘Dan’.

 Dean was just glad they had passengers at all, which would help pay their way. ‘Badger’ hadn’t paid them nearly enough for the skins of the vampires, claiming the worth was less due to the headlessness. Even _after_ Dean had explained that the only way to kill a vamp was through beheading.

 Dean ushered the passengers on to the ship.

 “All aboard!” he called out and Jo packed up her chair and parasol.

"All aboard,” she muttered, casting one last look back on the planet before climbing up into the ship.


End file.
